


Black and White and Gray All Over (Nothing is Cut and Dry)

by actionpackedlips, Devral



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Deadpool (Movieverse), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: (kind of), Dark Wade Wilson, Deadpool does the torturing, Frottage, Graphic Description of Child Pornography, Graphic Torture, M/M, Masturbation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Vigilantism is more than just handing the bad guys to the police, but Deadpool and Spider-Man are the good guys, graphic description of rape, morally ambiguous Spider-Man
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:48:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25541623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actionpackedlips/pseuds/actionpackedlips, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devral/pseuds/Devral
Summary: "What would it take to turn Spider-Man away from his strict moral code?"The scream jerked Peter’s attention away from his aimless swinging and he swung to the side, jerking around a building in the direction of that echoing scream. Another frantic scream rang out and this time there were words attached.“Stop! Please, don’t!”He wasn’t going to be fast enough.
Relationships: Deadpool/Spider-man, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 16
Kudos: 151





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was spawned from both our love of exploring the faucets of darkness within Deadpool. Although we wondered what exactly would it take to get Peter to join him there? Behold this fic! 
> 
> We hope you enjoy the exploration of a morally ambiguous Spider-Man as much as we do.
> 
> Thanks go to Cosmic-Spider for helping us beta!

The scream jerked Peter’s attention away from his aimless swinging and he swung to the side, jerking around a building in the direction of that echoing scream. Another frantic scream rang out and this time there were words attached.

_“Stop! Please, don’t!”_

He wasn’t going to be fast enough.

The terror in that scream propelled him forward, and his wrist twinged with the effort of pushing himself to swing faster. He heard sobbing as he grew closer, and then another shrill scream just as he finally rounded the corner into the alley where the scene was unfolding.

Peter landed, not even thinking about his footing and his feet skid across pavement.

“Get off her!” He shouted and threw out a web to the back of the large figure towering over the terrified women. He pulled back just a little too hard and the man flew back into the opposite wall with a loud crack.

Satisfied by the temporary stillness of the man, he approached the victim.

“Miss? Uh, ma’am? Are you— Okay, yeah, you’re not okay, but can I help you?” 

The words didn’t have the effect Peter had hoped for. The lady screamed and scrambled back, clutching her torn skirt around her legs. Peter could see the blood smears on the ground. Not enough to make him think he needed to call 911, but enough to know he was too late. She’d already been raped. 

The burn of hot anger scorched through Peter, not only directed at the man, but at himself. He could have prevented this if only he’d been fast enough.

The man groaned behind him and the woman in front of him whimpered, flinching at his movement, her eyes jerking back and forth between Peter and her rapist webbed to the alley wall behind him.

Peter didn’t step towards her again, but he held out a hand to try and reassure her. 

“He won’t hurt you again, I promise.” 

She burst into tears. Peter grimaced and let his hand fall back to his side. The guy wouldn’t _need_ to hurt her again. Peter had been too late. 

Peter glanced at the lady shaking before him, deciding to put his own bitter thoughts of failure to the side and help her. He needed to get this guy off the streets, and he needed to make sure she was okay.

He put in the necessary call to the police and waited for them to show up. Normally, he would leave the man tied up with a little note for the police to find, but he didn’t want to leave this woman to talk to the police by herself. Or leave her with her rapist only a few feet from her. It had been hard. She never did say anything to him, just pressed against the wall and cried. 

Once the police arrived and cuffed the man and an ambulance had left with the poor girl, Peter made his way up to the top of the building, his heart heavy.

“He’s gonna be back out to molest some other poor chica in less than a week.” 

Peter skittered to the side, almost toppling over the edge of the building he had just climbed. “Holy moly! Where did you come from?”

Deadpool was leaning up against an HVAC unit, arms crossed. He shrugged. “Heard the screaming. I figured on taking care of it, but you got there first. Too bad. I’ll just have to catch up to that shitstain some other time.”

Peter bristled at Deadpool’s flippant tone. He’d taken care of the situation! Maybe a little too late… but he’d still managed to get the guy arrested. He wouldn’t be back on the streets for a long while. 

“Dude! He’s going to jail. At least this way he gets some real punishment.”

“Dude!” Deadpool mocked. “He would have gotten some _real_ punishment from me. Jail? Oh, you poor summer child.”

Peter scowled. “Torture is wrong, Deadpool.”

Deadpool scoffed and straightened up, prowling towards Peter. “Torture? And what about what that sick bastard just did to that girl? Torture and death is the least I could have given him for her. You think throwing them in jail works? Hah, you just gave him the equivalent of a slap on the wrist. He’ll be back on the streets in no time.” 

His soliloquy brought him to a stop less than a foot away and Peter fought not to flinch away. He always forgot how much taller Deadpool really was, but having to crane his neck to look up at the guy really brought it home. 

“You may think you can do whatever you want,” Peter stubbornly looked up into the whites of Deadpool’s mask, “But taking the law into your own hands is _wrong._ ”

Deadpool snorted. “We’ll see.” 

He doesn’t give Peter a chance to reply before he’s throwing himself off the side of the building. The crack of his legs snapping as he hits the ground reached Peter’s ears, but by the time he looked over the side of the building, Deadpool was already up and walking away. 

Peter may have been too late to stop that man, but he had confidence in the justice system. The criminal would get served the justice he deserved.


	2. Chapter 2

Peter felt the familiar warning tingle right before he heard the shout; his spidey sense warning of danger before his more conventional senses registered anything.

The tingle had a direction, luckily,turning him towards the disturbance before even realizing what direction he needed to go. The situation felt awfully familiar: a feminine scream echoing throughout his memory just as much as it had the night before, causing his heart to beat frantically in his chest as he struggled to swing himself faster. He didn’t want to be too late this time if—

“P-Please,” a soft feminine voice pleaded, “Please leave me alone!”

The man’s response was lost the moment Peter heard his voice. White noise filled his head and the rage had nearly blinded him when that familiar voice filtered through.

Peter wasn’t far now, her sobs ringing through his ears on repeat as he slung out webs almost faster than he could keep up with. He wasn’t going to let this happen again. He wouldn’t fail this time.

He reached them just as the man was towering over her, her shaking form pressed up against the brick wall, trapping her.

He was pulling at the front of his pants when Peter landed silently behind him.

“Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?” Peter quipped.

The criminal jumped, spinning around to face him, and Peter relished in the man’s clear terror at having been caught by Spider-Man a second time. His hands came up in surrender and he started stuttering out excuses. “Nah, man, hey! I’ve turned over a new leaf. She just fell!” 

Peter ignored the obvious lie and webbed the man to yank him away from the terrified woman, smashing his face against the pavement and webbing him down. Peter normally wouldn’t be so rough if it wasn’t necessary, but he was finding his patience waning for this man. Finding him committing the same horrific crime after Peter’d  _ already  _ handed him to the police once—

Deadpool’s words wouldn’t stop echoing in his head. _ “You think throwing them in jail works? Hah, you just gave him the equivalent of a slap on the wrist. He’ll be back on the streets in no time.”  _ Peter knew the police weren’t perfect but it was a harsh blow to find such a violent offender back on the street in so short a time. 

Peter tried to tamp down on his fury and focus on the cowering woman in front of him. She seemed more put together than the last victim, but Peter attributed that to his swiftness this time around. The man hadn’t had time to remove any of her clothes, or do anything worse than knocking her around a little and cornering her.

It still made Peter’s heart pang painfully in regret. She shouldn’t have had to go through it at all. He’d thought he’d taken care of this particular disgusting  _ pest _ , and had been so certain he would have been put away for a long while so no one else would have to suffer from his inability to understand the importance of consent.

Peter approached her carefully, and she seemed to be much more receptive, relieved even, to him reaching out to her than the previous victim had been.

“Thank you,” she whispered to Peter, but her eyes wouldn’t stop flickering nervously to the man bundled up in Peter’s webs, as if he’d manage to break free and finish what he started.

Not on his watch.

“Yeah, you’re welcome, of course. I’m so glad I was able to help.” Peter pulled her a little farther away from the struggling man on the ground. “Hey, I’m gonna call the cops. You willing to stick around and make a report to the police? This is the second time I’ve caught this guy and I’m really hoping to get him put away for good.”

The woman flinched. “Oh, no, I—”

“Please,” Peter interrupted before she could get far in her refusal. “Please, this is the second time I’ve caught him. Someone needs to speak against him to keep him off the streets.” 

She softened a little at his words but still looked hesitant, “I don’t know Spider-Man, will they even believe me? He didn’t get that far.” 

“I’ll wait here with you until they get here, would that help? I’ll tell them what I found.” 

She grimaced before she half shrugged, half nodded, “I guess.”

Noticing her hesitancy, he added “I can show them, too.” At her skeptical look, he went on, “I have an AI in my suit that records while I’m out.” 

“Oh!” She exclaimed, brightening, “Yeah, that does help. Yeah, okay. I’ll do it.” 

Peter nodded and wasted no time in having Karen contact the police. 

This would be enough. He would talk to the police with the girl, have Karen transfer the recording to them, and the criminal would be put away for a long time. No matter what Deadpool believed, Peter knew the justice system worked if given the chance.


	3. Chapter 3

It was proving to be a busy night. As Peter swung away from the third crime he’d managed to stop, his senses tingled frantically.

Something bad was going down, and not far from him. 

He was already going in the right direction but he quickened his pace. The wind rushed past him as he swung around buildings. Very familiar buildings. This was the part of town where—

“P-please, man, don’t!” Peter heard a deep, terrified voice plead. 

Hearing a man beg desperately, scared for his life, was unusual around these parts. Regardless, Peter could hear that the man clearly needed help. He propelled himself onto the top of a building and walked over to the ledge to listen. It was the second deep, less terrified, far more amused voice, that made him peek over. He paused at the scene he saw below. 

Deadpool had a man hunched over and shaking in fear, pinned along the wall behind him with a katana. The angle made it hard to tell if the katana had pierced anything important, but the small pool of blood below the man made it clear to Peter that the blade had definitely gone through skin, at least.

Peter was about to drop down and rescue the man from being tortured, knowing exactly how enthusiastic Deadpool could be, but before he could move the man looked up, pleading once more— Peter knew that face! The recognition burned through him, and he found himself shaking with indignation. He’d hand delivered this guy  _ twice _ to the police and still—!

“See, pal, I believe chivalry isn’t dead,” Deadpool’s cheery voice reached Peter’s ears. “Ladies first, and all that. How about it, babe, what do you think I should chop off first?”

Peter heard sniffles and he finally looked around the alley, taking in more than just Deadpool and his victim.. There was a woman farther behind Deadpool, leaning up along the wall and obviously trying to collect herself. Peter nearly choked on the regret that rushed through him at yet another woman having to live with the trauma that this criminal inflicted. 

He’d been so certain that the last arrest, the evidence he’d handed over with a victim willing to testify should have had him locked up for a good long while. Peter was trying to rid these scum from the streets, not just give them an obligatory night or two in a jail cell before they got let out again! 

“How about those wandering hands, huh?” Deadpool asked, snickering as he traced a blade over the man’s wrists. “Can’t get handsy if you’ve got none!”

The woman’s sobs had slowed enough for her to agree and she let out a choked sounding laugh. “That’s an idea.”

Deadpool cackled gleefully over the man’s cries of protest, waving his blade at the cowering man, “ _ She  _ likes my idea.”

The man let out a shout of pain as Deadpool reached over and twisted the katana cruelly. “I don’t think that’s good enough, though. Personally, I’d go for the dick first,” Deadpool said, voice losing the glee and a snarl edging his words. 

The woman hiccuped out a sharp laugh. “It’s not enough. Start with his dick, then gouge out his eyes. He tried to say it was because he couldn’t ignore my  _ pretty dress _ ,” her mouth twisted bitterly as she spat out the words. “Maybe if he can’t  _ see _ his self control will get a little better.”

Peter watched as Deadpool turned back to the man, leaned in further, and whispered, “I like this chick.”

The man didn’t seem to appreciate Deadpool’s words, groaning in pain. Not that Peter was surprised; it was obvious Deadpool was leaning on his katana, twisting it even further. Peter couldn’t pull his eyes away as Deadpool trailed the blade over the man’s face. It’s only his enhanced hearing that lets him hear the next words Deadpool crooned to the man. “You know what  _ my  _ favorite thing to do with rapists is? Give them a taste of their own medicine. You like to hold people down and fuck them against their will. What about it?”

The man screamed and started to struggle, but Deadpool only laughed and kicked him in the leg as he stepped back, still tightly gripping the katana.

Now would be the time to step in, Peter knew. Peter  _ should _ have stepped in the minute he knew what Deadpool was up to, but a part of Peter was frozen to the top of the building, mesmerized by the scene in front of him. Deadpool had warned him about all of this, but Peter hadn’t listened. It hurt to feel his belief in the justice system crack but— Deadpool had been right. Now there were two other women terrified from the despicable actions of this man, holding memories that would keep them looking over their shoulders for the rest of their lives. 

Peter felt split in two. He wanted to believe this man would get what was coming to him if he got handed to the police, but Peter wasn’t so sure anymore. The man’s cries and screams sounded so similar to the girls he’d hurt. Maybe he did deserve a little quid pro quo—

The slick, wet slide of the katana being pulled from the man pulled Peter out of his conflicting thoughts. Deadpool’s powerful shoulders bunched as he held the katana, ready to take aim, but he paused as if remembering something and glanced back at the girl, a grin stretching his mask.

“I don’t usually let anyone touch my babies,” Deadpool told her conversationally, as if they weren’t in an alley with a man sniveling before him, katana poised above him to chop off an extremity. “But I feel it’s only polite to ask if you’d like the first swing?”

He said it so casually, as if they were talking about a pinata and not a human being. Peter saw the girl shake her head, and his feeling solidified. It was one thing to talk about it, another thing entirely to do it. The thought of this man getting what he deserved was gratifying, but seeing it play out?

Peter’s belief in the justice system may have been a little cracked, but he couldn’t just let Deadpool keep torturing this guy.

He dropped down just as Deadpool moved to swing. He felt bad using his webbing on Deadpool’s beloved katana, but it was necessary. Spider-Man couldn’t just watch this happen, no matter how satisfying the thought of retribution felt. Torture and murder was wrong, even if what the man had done had been far worse, and perhaps arguably worthy of such a punishment. No, Peter had to believe that the justice system  _ would  _ take care of a man like this. He just had to do more to prove this man belonged behind bars rather than free on the streets.

“Deadpool!” he called out, landing behind the trio and yanking the katana out of Deadpool’s hand. Deadpool spun to face him. 

“Spidey! Long time no see,” Deadpool grinned at him. “Can I have that back, though? I was a little busy getting ready to kill Rapey McGee over there.”

“I can’t let you kill him,” Peter said firmly, holding back a sigh as Deadpool’s grin immediately fell into a scowl. 

“Yes, you can.” 

“No, I really can’t.” 

“Give it back,” Deadpool demanded, holding out his hand. 

Peter shot a web out and hit the man trying to slither away from them now that he was free. He didn’t look away from Deadpool. “You know I’m not going to let you kill him.” 

Deadpool barked out a laugh and let his hand drop, shrugging. “Okay. Good thing I don’t need it to kill him.” 

He spun around, a gun aimed before Peter even had the chance to think. His spidey sense pinged and he managed to yank the gun away just as it was fired, bullet thudding into the alley wall. 

“Fucking—!” Deadpool shook out his hand and turned back to Peter, obviously angry. “This dumpster trash deserves it! You fucking know the police aren’t going to do a goddamn thing, Spider-man.”

“They just need more evidence.” 

“What they need?” Deadpool stepped even closer, crowding into Peter’s space. “Nothing you find will ever be enough.”

“I’m gonna talk to the girl—” Peter’s words were cut off by Deadpool’s harsh shove, pushing him back into the wall and towering over him. 

“No!” Deadpool snarled. “She’s been through enough! You think she needs some pretty boy in blue to ask her what she did to draw his eye? Didn’t you know? It’s always the woman’s fault.” 

Peter had nothing to say to that. Deadpool wasn’t wrong. Peter had seen the statistics just like everyone else, but he had to try. Murder wasn’t the answer! Guilt sat heavily in his stomach but he just shook his head. 

As if knowing what Peter was thinking, Deadpool scoffed and shoved away from him, creating space where he’d had them pressed up against the wall. “Fuck you, and fuck your fucking principles. Next time I see him, I’m just gonna shoot him in the head instead of playing first.”

With those parting words, Deadpool stalked towards the woman and leaned down to gently help her up. “Come on, honey. You got somewhere you want me to take you?” he asked.

Peter let them go. He watched until they turned out the alley, then he glanced back at the restrained man. He felt… adrift. For some reason he felt like he’d picked the wrong side this time. He knew it was the right thing to do, but it didn’t feel like enough.

Calling for the cops didn’t feel so righteous this time.


	4. Chapter 4

The unsettled feeling didn’t leave him after the cops cuffed and dragged the criminal away. Instead, it lingered and festered; the memory of that night replayed in his mind over and over.

Peter was lounging in his apartment, the weather outside was damp and ugly; there was usually less crime in weather like this, so with how he was feeling Peter had decided to take a mental health day. He always felt bad skipping out on patrol, but sometimes he needed it. Days like today, unfortunately.

Negative what-if’s wouldn’t stop gibbering through his head. Like what would have happened if he hadn’t shown up and… would that have been such a terrible thing? It would have kept the man permanently off the streets. 

Guilt immediately followed that train of thought and his stomach churned unpleasantly.

He was glad he stopped Deadpool, he was. Peter truly believed torture and murder were never the answer. He just wished  _ his _ way was the answer. In this situation, the police and the justice system clearly weren’t working. Having to collect a man three times for the same crime and hand him to the police clearly pointed to something being wrong with the system.

Peter just didn’t know how to fix that system, or what it meant that his belief in it was failing.

Deadpool certainly didn’t have a problem with taking justice into his own hands. There had been no remorse in his eyes, only glee, at the thought of killing that man. He honestly thought he was doing the right thing. At least in that, he had more confidence than Peter, there had been no hesitation before Peter interrupted, only determination.

He’d only relented after Peter had intervened, and then…

Peter blushed.  _ That _ moment had replayed on the mouse wheel of his brain just as much, if not more, then anything else about that night.

The way Deadpool had grabbed him and shoved him up against the wall… The way Peter had let him. He remembered so vividly the feel of Deadpool’s strong body pressed flush against his own. 

It was too hot in his tiny apartment. It definitely wasn’t the thought of Deadpool warming his skin.

The semi slowly growing against his thigh as his thoughts lingered on the press of firm muscle against his chest disproved that thought. He glared down at the rising tent in his boxers, discontent mixing with the rising lust in his gut. His imagination didn’t seem to care about his feelings on the matter. 

His mind started throwing images of Deadpool pressed against him, twisting the memory and making it hotter. In his mind’s eye, Deadpool growled his frustration into Peter’s ear, his warm breath sending shivers down Peter’s body. His imagination conjured a rising hardness in those leather pants, pressing into Peter’s stomach.

It was enough to have Peter throbbing and he gave in, kicking off his boxers and palming his cock. He hissed at the rough friction and reached over to his nightstand to grab some lube. He dripped a little down the bottom of his cock, flinching a little at the cold, and tossed the bottle aside. He heard it drop to the floor, but whatever, he could grab it later. 

His imagination hadn’t stopped its feverish images. 

Peter teased the head of his cock as the flash of heat consumed him at the resumed thought of being held down by Deadpool. He stroked down, gripping the base with a moan as that image continued to flash its assault across his mind. He felt wound up, and even his slow teasing touches couldn’t stop the hunger and urgency coursing through him. 

The words Deadpool had snarled at him shifted and morphed into something startlingly hotter. Instead of hostility and anger, Deadpool’s condescending tone turned into panting feathering warm air over his skin. Peter hitched his hips up into his hand as he imagined Deadpool moaning into his ear, grinding their hips together, pinning Peter against the wall with rough hands as they both took their pleasure from one another. 

Peter gasped on an upstroke, hand skimming perfectly across the precum gathering at the tip. He was dangerously close to coming, but he loosened his hand. He didn’t want to finish just yet, didn’t want the fantasy in his mind to fade back to reality. 

The guilt and shame hovered just on the edge of his mind, but the sharp pleasure and dirty fantasy were keeping them at bay. 

The Deadpool in his mind flipped him around and pressed Peter into the wall again, grinding his hard length along the top of Peter’s ass. His teeth came down over Peter’s shoulder, sharp even through two pieces of fabric, and his hand came down and slipped through the fold of fabric hidden at the crotch, finding Peter’s hard cock. 

The fantasy was so all encompassing, it almost felt real. Peter could feel the rough brick against his forehead, the sting against his shoulder, and the hand on his cock didn’t feel like his own anymore. 

He felt Deadpool’s other hand fumble between them and then it wasn’t a leather clad cock pressed against his back, it was the real deal, hard and hot and pressing into the cleft of his ass. His fevered imagination didn’t stop there and threw the sensation of that cock pressing up against him and the dragging friction against his suit as it pressed hard between his cheeks. 

Peter moaned and pressed his ass back and the hand dragging over his cock moved faster, twisting just under the head on every upstroke. 

Deadpool let go of his shoulder and moved his mouth close to Peter’s ear, “Yeah, press back against me. You like that? Next time I’m gonna fuck you so hard, pull you down to the ground and fuck you into next week.” 

Goosebumps rushed over his skin and Peter shuddered, nodding. 

“I knew you would,” Deadpool’s rough voice was even rougher than usual, and Peter could hear his breath hitching in his chest every time Peter shoved back to meet his rutting cock. “Yeah, fuck, take it.” 

Pressure built low in his stomach and his balls pulled up tight. He was so close, just a little more, just a little—

Deadpool moaned into Peter’s ear and the pressure erupted, orgasm shuddering through him. 

He let it roll over him, thrusting into his own hand and moaning roughly. When it was over, he slumped back against his pillow, wiping his hand on his boxers still laying next to him. 

As expected, the guilt rushed in and crashed over him as soon as the fantasy faded away. It was worse now. How could he be thinking about Deadpool like that? The man was a murderer. No, the  _ mercenary _ was a killer for hire, willing to take anyone down for the right price. 

His conscience pricked at him. He knew it was more than that. Deadpool protected the innocent. He was going to kill that guy because he was a rapist, not because Deadpool had been hired to kill him. 

Peter may not understand Deadpool’s morals, but he had to admit they existed. 

And that thought was even harder to stomach. Peter couldn’t help but keep coming back to the rapist in the alley. He had gone on to hurt two more women after Peter had turned him to the police and Peter had sent him back into the arms of the police each time. If he had listened to Deadpool that first time, those two women wouldn’t have been hurt and how many others had Peter missed? 

How many other women had the man hurt and neither Spider-Man or Deadpool had been there to stop him?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank our lovely new beta, TheDevilHerself, she's a life saver! Unfortunately life has gotten overwhelming for Cosmic-Spider, but we're still super grateful she pulled our first chapters into coherency for us!

“Shouldn’t have struggled so much, bitch,” A familiar voice sneered as the man stood up and kicked the body of the girl he had just been on top of. 

The man reached for the fly of his pants right as Peter landed directly behind him. Peter grabbed his shoulders and threw him aside. He didn’t watch as the man flew the eight feet across the alley and hit the opposite wall with a bone breaking thud and collapsed to the ground, moaning. Instead, Peter was busy checking the woman. He had to check. He couldn’t hear her breathing but— He  _ couldn’t _ have been too late. 

He crouched down and gently moving her with shaking fingers to check for a pulse. Her throat was still under his fingers, and her chest wasn’t moving. Peter knew there were things he should be doing, number one being calling an ambulance, but blind rage burned through him and instead he turned around to face the still groaning man slumped along the wall. 

His arms shook as he clenched his fists, stalking over to hover above the man menacingly. “You son of a bitch,” he whispered.

Peter had never wanted to kill anyone so badly before. He’d never wanted to  _ actually _ kill someone before, but the man in front of him - _ the rapist in front of him- _ was making him forget all about his morals and principles. What good were those morals and principals when a man like this, when  _ scum  _ like this got to walk away and rape women as the mood struck him. Those women would never get to walk away again because of him.

Peter gripped the man’s arm and yanked him up. He screamed, and Peter felt something tear in the man’s shoulder, but it didn’t matter. Deadpool’s gleeful voice echoed through his head.  _ “How about those wandering hands, huh? Can’t get handsy if you’ve got none!”  _

Yeah.

He could rip the man’s arms off. It was what he deserved, right? He’d used those hands to hurt countless women and tonight… tonight Peter had been too late to save a woman from rape and murder at those same hands. 

He slammed the man’s wrist into the wall, feeling bones crack beneath his fingers, and webbed it to the wall. 

Peter whirled the man around, twisting his restrained arm painfully to crack the man’s face against the wall. The man wailed as his nose crunched and blood streamed steadily down his face and whimpered out something that sounded like a plea for him to stop but Peter only sneered.

“You didn’t stop when _she_ begged you,” he nearly growled, voice shaking with adrenaline and rage. “You didn’t stop with _any_ _of them!”_

“Please,” the man continued to whine but Peter barely heard it through the roaring in his ears. He wanted this man, this _murdering rapist,_ to feel the pain all those poor women had felt. How the woman he couldn’t save had felt in her last moments.

Peter was just about to make his next move when a hand laid itself softly on his shoulder, squeezing gently but firmly. Peter spun, roughly kicking behind him. 

Deadpool grunted as his legs were swept out from under him and he hit the ground hard. Peter kept his hold steady on the man in front of him but looked down at Deadpool sprawled behind him.

“I can handle this, Deadpool.” His words sounded surprisingly steady despite his shaking.

Deadpool got up, making a show of dusting himself off before taking a step towards Peter. “Can you?” he asked. 

Peter smiled grimly and turned back to the man still pressed harshly against the wall. He had wiggled the hand not webbed up between his face and the wall, obviously trying to protect what he could. Peter gripped his wrist and twisted, pulling the man’s arm behind his back. The sound of his shoulder popping out of its socket was overshadowed by the sound of his scream. 

“You’re the one who told me he deserves this,” Peter said, still looking at the man but clearly addressing Deadpool. “You were right.”

Peter turned his head at Deadpool’s silence. Deadpool stood there, looking at him with an expression Peter couldn’t read even through the merc’s usually so expressive mask. It was a few more seconds before Deadpool nodded.

“I did say that. But Spider-Man… Let me do this,” Deadpool said softly. 

Peter grimaced and let go of the man, spinning and shoving Deadpool away again. “This is my fault!” he shouted.

Deadpool stumbled back only a little before righting himself. He stepped back into Peter’s space without hesitation. “You followed your beliefs. And now it’s time for you to walk away and let me follow mine. I got this, Spider-Man. He’ll get what he deserves.” 

Peter shook his head. “I—I should—”

Deadpool stepped close enough that Peter could feel the heat of his body radiating out. Deadpool lifted a hand tentatively, most likely afraid of getting kicked back again, and gripped Peter’s shoulder. 

“Let me do the dirty work this time, Spidey. All you gotta do is walk away. That’s enough.”

Peter looked up into the whites of Deadpool’s mask, and suddenly the fight just… left him. He did want that man to pay, and making him scream out in pain felt satisfying even if it still made his stomach turn. 

But he didn't want to be a killer. He knew that deep down. As much as he wanted the guy to pay for his crimes, Peter wasn’t going to be the one to do it. 

Peter’s shoulders slumped in defeat and he nodded.

Deadpool squeezed his shoulder once more before letting his gloved fingers slip down Peter’s arm. He turned his attention to the man behind Peter and like a switch had been flipped, his demeanor changed. “Just gonna be you and me, baby.” The leer in Deadpool’s voice sent a shiver down Peter’s spine and all at once all the emotion of the night fell over him and it was too much. 

Peter shot a web at the top of the building next to them and scaled his way to the top. He didn’t look back once. Not even when the man’s screams echoed behind him and Deadpool’s laughter drifted up right after.


	6. Chapter 6

Peter didn’t make it far once he’d climbed over the lip of the building. He all but collapsed once his feet hit the roof, back pressed against the edge.

He didn’t want to watch, as much as he’d been willing just a few seconds ago to dole out the man's punishment. But he could hear perfectly what was going on below and that was more than enough. 

After the fourth or fifth long, loud scream Peter had tucked his head down into his knees. He knew it wouldn’t do much to drown out the sound, but it made him feel a little bit better as he wrapped his arms around his legs and cocooned himself. The sound of Deadpool’s manic giggles and constant descriptions of what he wished he had time to do made everything so much worse. 

He could just leave, web away and book it out of there, but something inside him wouldn’t let him move. He stayed there, back pressed hard against the brick, unable to move. 

This fourth victim, she… and Peter felt bad that he kept referring to her without a name, felt even worse he hadn’t thought to check who she  _ was,  _ but she hadn’t been able to leave. She hadn’t been able to outrun or outfight the man before he’d  _ raped and then murdered her.  _

Even just the thought still had rage thrumming through his body. 

So why should Peter be allowed to run? He deserved to listen in on what continued on down in the alley below him. He’d all but signed the rapist’s death warrant by walking away and leaving Deadpool behind with the man. But hadn’t Peter himself been ready and willing to do the deed? He knew how much Deadpool loved violence, and this man… this man  _ did  _ deserve it. 

Despite the thought, he still flinched when another scream rang out and there was a wet squelching sound. Of course Deadpool’s laughter echoed up behind it, this time with words. “Ooooh, look at that! Much easier to rip off a wrist when Spidey’s already got the bones nice and crushed. I’ll have to thank him later.” 

Peter flinched. This was the man he had fantasized about. That voice was so different from what Peter’s mind had come up with in his apartment and the pleasure he was obviously taking in the bloody violence had Peter’s stomach turning. 

The man’s cries had started to taper off as Deadpool continued and it wasn’t long before Peter heard a disturbing thud and a colorful curse from the merc.

“I forgot how fragile a non-enhanced body is. Been a long time since I’ve had one myself,” he snickered and then sighed. “That wasn’t supposed to kill you!”

Peter could hear the petulance in the last phrase. 

That was it then. The man would finally be off the streets for good. It didn’t help the women he’d harmed, or the one still laying down below. Peter closed his eyes tight against the tears he could feel attempting to well up. He’d done it for them. For her.

He’d allowed Deadpool to do it and hopefully saved a lot of other women from the horrible actions of that man.

Why didn’t that thought make Peter feel any better? He felt sick with the relief of knowing the man wouldn’t harm anyone else, but also sick with the thought that it had been his walking away that had allowed this death to happen. He’d indirectly killed someone. Wasn’t that just as bad as  _ actually _ killing someone? 

Deadpool ungracefully clambered over the building and landed a few feet away from him. Peter startled, head lifting up so quickly he hit the back of the wall behind him painfully. His spidey-sense hadn’t alerted him to anything.

“Oh hey, Spidey! Didn’t think you’d stick around,” Deadpool’s voice was far too cheery for what he’d just finished doing. “You won’t have to worry about him no more.”

Peter just continued to stare at Deadpool, eyes focusing in on the specks of blood covering his suit in scattered patterns. It made what happened, what he’d listened to, all the more real. “I—” he hesitated. “I don’t—” 

Peter stopped and squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head.

“Spidey?”

The rapist was dead and his killer stood before Peter and all he could feel was… empty. 

Guilty.

Peter had been ready to kill the man himself. Why did it feel like a cop out that he had let Deadpool do it?

“You know, I stopped you from killing that smear. You’ve got nothing to be guilty about.” Deadpool’s words weren’t the comfort Peter figured the merc had meant them to be. He flinched as Deadpool threw himself down next to Peter.

A dramatic sigh sounded out. “Come on, Spidey, this is a good thing! Bad guy off the streets for real this time!” 

“It’s my fault he’s dead,” Peter whispered. 

“Eh?” Deadpool asked. “Whatcha talkin’ about, Willis? I’m definitely the one who ripped off his hand. Oooh, that reminds me. Just eff why eye, crushed wrist bones make it so much easier to pull off a hand!” Peter could tell that Deadpool was flapping his hands in the air. “And then he bled to death, oops. I was really hoping I could draw it out a little more.” 

The sad sigh was the last straw for Peter and he sprung to his feet, putting space between them. “How can you say that?!” Peter spat.

Deadpool looked up at Peter owlishly, white mask eyes wide with confusion. He tipped his head to the side before slowly pulling himself to his feet. “What do you mean?”

“How could you kill him and then just—” Peter nearly howled in frustration, spinning away. “This isn’t a joke or a game, Deadpool.” 

“He needed to die.” The bubbly happiness is gone from Deadpool’s voice now. “I stopped him— No,  _ we  _ stopped him from hurting more women. This is a good thing, Spider-Man.” 

“A man is dead.” Peter turned back around. “That’s never a good thing.” 

Deadpool’s face twisted and he snarled. “So what? You should have just turned him in to the police to get a nothing sentence and be back out in a few years?”

“No!” 

“Then what the fuck’s your problem! You knew exactly what I was going to do when you walked away.” 

“Look, that guy—” Peter gritted his teeth on a harsh breath. “That guy was never going to stop. You were right.” Peter crossed his arms tightly, a harsh knot of bitterness twisting in his chest at admitting even that. He may have been willing to kill a vicious repeat criminal in the moment, but after listening to Deadpool torture the guy, it had been more than a little hard to stomach. “You didn’t have to enjoy it so much,” he complained, “It was necessary, maybe, but taking people's lives shouldn't be fun.”

“Oh boo fucking who,” Deadpool sneered. “He’s  _ dead _ ! He’s not gonna be out there hurting women anymore. Who gives a flying pig’s nut if I enjoyed it a little? Drag the stick outta your ass, climb off that high horse, and enjoy life. If you don’t love your job, what’s there to enjoy?”

Peter just shook his head and scowled harder.

Deadpool gave him a look that didn’t bode well. “I think you’re really mad at yourself, Spider-Man,” he said slyly.

Peter’s eyes narrowed.

“Yeah,” Deadpool mocked. “You always pride yourself on doing the right thing. Well, sometimes the right thing to do gets messy. I’m fine being the guy to call when the time for that comes, but don’t think you’re better than me just because you walked away.”

“That’s not—” Peter stopped. “Yeah, okay. Maybe you’re a little right. I wanted to kill that guy. But I wouldn’t have giggled as I did it.” 

“Whatever, next time I’ll try to keep it to myself,” Deadpool scoffed.

Peter sighed, shoulders finally relaxing and he let his arms slip down from their tight grip around himself. “But did you really have to enjoy it so much?” he repeated softly, almost to himself, before he continued, “I knew what was going to happen when I walked away. I probably shouldn’t have stayed to listen, but—” Peter shrugged. “I wanted to know he was dead.” 

Deadpool snickered and leaned back to look over the wall. “Yeah, definitely dead.” 

“Thank you.”

“What?” Deadpool stood up straight, startled.

Peter shook his head. He was done talking. All his anger, mostly at himself but still a little at Deadpool, was just too much for him to process anymore. Turning away, he walked to the opposite edge of the roof. Stepping up on the ledge, he shot out a web and let gravity take his body as he swung away. 


	7. Chapter 7

Peter only waited with the webbed up young man long enough to see the police car pull up to the mouth of the alley before he turned and scaled the wall. He reached up for the top of the building and nearly lept out of his skin as a gloved hand grabbed his before it could land on the ledge. His Spidey sense hadn’t gone off. 

His eyes shot up and met a familiar mask. Deadpool helped to haul him up over the ledge of the building and he snatched his hand away as soon as he was on his feet. 

“That sixth sense of yours a little broken?” Deadpool quipped.

“A lot on my mind,” Peter said, shrugging his shoulders and stepping around Deadpool.

“Hey,” Deadpool said. 

Peter somehow missed the movement again as Deadpool snagged his arm before he could move too far. He let himself be stopped, turning to look at the mercenary. The streetlight sent a slice of light over his face, highlighting only one eye. It made the night more ominous than it already was.

He was letting Deadpool get to him. 

“Why’d you call the cops?” 

“What do you mean?” Peter asked, not understanding Deadpool’s logic.

“What I mean is,” Deadpool said pointedly, crossing his arms, “I thought we established the cops were  _ no bueno. _ ”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows, the confused wrinkle of his forehead likely lost under his mask. 

“What did you expect me to do? He was just a kid, Deadpool.”

Deadpool’s frustration was clear as day on his mask. “A kid that will be back on the street in a week or so?”

His words brought the point home to Peter and anger was abruptly burning through him.

“Did you miss the part where I said he’s a  _ kid?”  _ Peter snapped. “He made a mistake and hopefully the police help him learn from it.” 

Deadpool scoffed. “He didn’t look like that much of a kid to me. He’s gonna get a slap on the wrist and all it’s gonna do is show him he can do what he wants with no punishment!” 

“We can’t kill everyone!” Shaking his head, Peter yanked his arm out of Deadpool’s grasp. “People don’t deserve to be killed over every little mistake! Who can learn anything if the punishment is always death?”

Deadpool’s voiced dropped into a growl, “What about the victims of these people? They deserve some sort of retribution for what they’ve suffered at the hands of these criminals! The same criminals you think  _ don’t deserve to die _ !”

Deadpool swayed closer in his anger. The movement made Peter antsy, but he couldn’t back down from Deadpool’s bullying. He was completely missing the point!

He was about to say as such but Deadpool barreled on and very obviously stepped closer, looming over Peter. “Some people don’t deserve a second chance, let alone the third or fourth they always seem to get with you or the cops!”

Peter shoved Deadpool back and followed as he stumbled back a few steps. He yanked his mask up to his nose and jabbed a finger into the merc’s chest. “Read my lips since you can’t seem to hear my words. I’m never going to be okay with killing.” 

Deadpool reached up and ripped his own mask off. “This is what the bad guys do to people when you give them too many chances,” he snarled, lip curling. It pulled at the mess of scarring suddenly visible. 

The scar tissue was everywhere. There wasn’t a patch of smooth skin to be seen, and as Peter’s eyes roamed over the exposed flesh he noticed some spots looked far worse than others, as if fresh and painful. He couldn’t help but feel a sort of tug in his chest at the tangle of scars that had just been exposed.

It was horrible, clearly, what had happened to Deadpool, but right at that moment it just felt like a cheap distraction. “What, you think you’re going to show me your face and I’m just going to agree that some teenage mugger should be murdered  _ just in case _ he turns into a torturer?”

Deadpool bared his teeth and gripped the front of Peter’s suit, spinning him around and pressing him hard against the door leading down to the apartments they were standing on. Peter didn’t have time to do more than flinch, his Spidey sense once again not giving him any warning, before Deadpool’s mouth crashed down against his. 

The first sensation to register was warmth. Deadpool pressed him hard against the door and his body radiated heat like a furnace. His mouth was hot against Peter’s and instinctively he opened his mouth to the pressure. Deadpool’s tongue immediately pressed in, forceful and dominant. Peter, in his shock, could think to do nothing but match him eagerly. 

Peter could feel the firm strength of Deadpool’s body all along the length of his and he couldn’t stop how he reacted, pressing close. His head spun with how fast the blood rushed to his cock. Good thing he hadn’t worn a cup today, Peter giddily thought, flexing his hips again. 

The reason for being on top of this building, the mugger, the fight, it all dissolved at the return press of Deadpool’s hips into his own. Peter’s breath hitched at the sensation of Deadpool’s equally hard cock against his thigh.

Peter slipped a leg up over Deadpool’s thigh and pressed in closer. Deadpool nipped at Peter’s lip and pulled away. Dropping his forehead down onto Peter’s shoulder, he dragged his hand down to grip tightly at Peter’s ass. “Shit,” he hissed. 

Peter felt the hot brush of breath against his neck before lips latched on above his suit, sucking a deep bruise. Peter moaned and wrapped one arm around Deadpool’s neck, pressing the other hard against the wall to help hold himself up. 

He tipped his head back and to the side. The hickey would probably still be there tomorrow, but whatever, it felt too good to ask Deadpool to stop. 

With his grip on the wall, he lifted his other leg up to wrap around Deadpool’s waist, thrusting against what felt like a wall of muscle and the steel length of Deadpool’s cock almost bruising the inside of his thigh. 

“Shit,” Deadpool muttered again and reached between them to adjust himself. 

Peter stuttered out a moan as the back of that gloved hand rubbed down the length of his cock. 

“Yes,” he hissed as Deadpool pulled his hand back, gripped tight to Peter’s ass, and thrust against him hard. His cock was now lined up with Peter’s and the pressure was fantastic. His suit dragged rough friction over his cock in an electric feeling of almost too much. 

The rhythm Deadpool started was almost frantic and Peter’s back arched in pleasure as he continued to thrust perfectly against him. His let his head drop back against the wall, breathing coming fast and hard, and Deadpool took the opportunity to bite at the spot his lips had been on just moments earlier. 

A loud moan rang out and Peter realized it had come from him. The sound only seemed to make Deadpool even crazier and his hips moved faster as the pleasure built low within Peter. His balls grew tight as the heavy sound of Deadpool’s breath in his ear drove him insane but it just wasn’t quite enough. 

Peter tightened his legs around Deadpool’s hips and slid his hand up and over those broad shoulders to drag his head up to meet Peter’s. Deadpool’s teeth scraped over his neck with the movement and the suction snapped with a sharp stinging sensation and a pop that Peter could barely hear over the harsh sound of their breaths. 

His open mouth crashed against Deadpool’s. There was no finesse to it, but it was exactly what he needed. He was pinned harshly back into the wall behind them, Deadpool pressing just as roughly into his mouth, tongue scouring every inch of Peter and his hips churning in tight circles. Peter moaned into the kiss and came, body tensing hard and spasming against unyielding hips. 

Deadpool didn’t stop, dragging his mouth down the other side of Peter’s neck and biting another hickey into the skin. His thrusts were even more frantic now and sparks of over-sensitivity had Peter whining, but he didn’t stop want to stop. He tilted his head back and let sensation poor over him in little overwhelming bursts. 

It wasn’t long before he could feel the tension ricochet through Deadpool’s body. A handful of thrusts and he pressed hard against Peter and snarled, thrusting erratically. A few more lazy thrusts and his hips stuttered to a stop. 

They stayed pressed together along the wall, catching their breath, for quite a few seconds before Deadpool stepped back and Peter let his legs slip from his hips. He winced at the disgusting feeling of his suit, and at the ache in his legs from holding their position for so long.

“Shit,” Deadpool repeated and Peter couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped him.

“Is that all you have to say?” He asked.

Deadpool shrugged awkwardly, taking another step back. “I mean. We just fucked against the wall on a rooftop. Talk about cliche.” 

“You’d call that fucking?”

His eyes flashed up to meet Peter’s, even through his mask, and his lips quirked into a smirk. “Well, I don’t know about you but that definitely escalated a little beyond argument.” 

Peter grimaced and looked away. 

Nothing but silence enveloped them for a few minutes. 

Deadpool fidgeted with his pouches and pulled out the mask he had somehow stuffed in one of them and muttered, “Look, I don’t put much faith in the police. Not like you do. I’ve seen too much of what the bad guys can do.” His eyes met Peter’s. “I take a more hands on approach.”

Peter tipped his head in a shrug. “I won’t ever be okay with killing kids, Deadpool.”

Deadpool’s smile lingered in Peter’s mind’s eye as Deadpool pulled his mask back down over his face. “But you won’t stop me from killing the monsters?” 

Peter couldn’t bring himself to answer the question but Deadpool didn’t force the issue. Instead he shrugged and tipped Peter a half wave. When he reached past Peter it was a struggle not to flinch, but Deadpool only grabbed the door handle and pressed his face against Peter’s for a moment before he pushed open the door. 

“No need to answer, baby boy. I’m gonna take the silence as a yes,” his voice rumbled lowly in Peter’s ear. 

He slipped around Peter and let the door slam shut behind him. This time Peter’s spidey sense blared through his senses and he flinched away before the door could shut against his back. 


End file.
